


Misery Loves Company

by KatePercy



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: F/M, Self-Destructive Behavior, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 05:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12450213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatePercy/pseuds/KatePercy
Summary: Hamlet and Claudius were similar in many ways. They were both highly ambitious men, both cared deeply for their reputation, and both found their ways into Gertrude’s bed.





	Misery Loves Company

It is not the first time she’s lost a lover. Gertrude has been left by many men before she met Hamlet. No, it’s not the first time she’s been alone. But it is the first time she’s lost a husband.  
Now, the emptiness is everywhere. In the mansion, in the gardens, even her bedroom is larger without him. At times his absence is so looming that she must retire for the day. “Retiring for the day” is how Polonius, her dry advisor refers to her spells when she must leave the company of others for hours at a time. Gertrude merely knows it as the time when she must take her xanax and sleep until the next day awakes.  
There is a quietness about the house, that she can not stand. It haunts her, like a buzzing or drifting gray clouds threatening to ruin a bright day. Gertrude tries to fill her time, shopping or reading, watching television or movies, yet still her mind hums like a engine moments from breaking down.  
Gertrude knows that her son processes his grief differently than she does. He isolates, hides in his room, refusing access to anyone besides Horatio. Gertrude thinks that the two are too close, yet she knows all too well how misery needs company.  
Her misery needs company. Gertrude knows this. Gertrude has known this since she was young. Gertrude needs someone to hold her as she falls asleep as if to ward away her unconscious night terrors.  
Gertrude was lonely and Gertrude was alone and Claudius was just there. And he looked so much like his brother. The same stature, the same glowing smile, the same chocolate brown eyes that loved to twinkle in her direction. He had always wanted her. That was a fact Gertrude knew for certain. The way he had always watched her at family dinners or had bristled at Hamlet’s gentle touch on her hip were telltale signs, but it was the furious intensity in his eyes upon her husband’s death, at his very own funeral that gave it away.  
Hamlet and Claudius were similar in many ways. They were both highly ambitious men, both cared deeply for their reputation, and both found their ways into Gertrude’s bed.  
It had been a lonely night, a night where even the crickets paused their songs as if still in remembrance of the late king’s death. Gertrude was pacing the dimly lit halls, her thin nightgown trailing on the cold, tile floors. He was there, waiting, sitting at a desk, pretending to be working as if he hadn’t heard her anxious footsteps.  
“Gertrude?”  
She made no response, only to draw closer to the man. The man who so closely resembled her husband. The man who she knew would stop her mind’s hushed whispers if only she could touch him.  
“Gertrude.”  
He knew what was happening, but refused to move, allowing the worn woman a last sliver of an exit.  
Her hands were caressing his shoulders, his neck, his back, his arms, hands sliding through his unkempt hair.  
She breathed one word.  
“Please.”  
And suddenly, standing up from his chair in one swift moment, Claudius picked her up, embracing her lips with his, in a tender fashion. They stayed like that, skin to skin, as if they would never have another moment to touch each other in their lifetimes.  
And then in another instant Gertrude steps back, staring into her husband’s brother’s eyes with a ravenous hunger. Her hands are tangled in his hair, straining his head back as she presses her lips to his neck, licking and biting as if a child suckling for want of food.  
“Take me,” she whispers into his ear, nipping his lobe, before meeting his mouth again.  
He grabs her again, lifting her, hands roughly grabbing her ass. She moans at the pain and the pleasure and bites at Claudius’s lip. He moves as fast as he can, carrying her to her bedroom? Her husband’s bedroom? She doesn’t know anymore. All she knows is that when Claudius’s mouth is on her’s the buzzing and the emptiness fades away. All she knows is that she had a problem and that she has found a solution. And that she will never let go.  
Claudius takes her that night. He takes her over and over and over again. And she triumphs under him, her mind reveling in her newfound peace.  
And yes, Claudius is not as handsome as Hamlet, nor is he as kind or courteous, or even as loving. But he fills her need. He quiets the whispers that Hamlet’s death left in her bed.  
They are married two months after he died. Four weeks after the funeral. Hamlet does not like it. Gertrude knows that Hamlet does not like it. And although she loves her son, she can not bear to be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot, but I think I might write a second part to this.


End file.
